


Run

by ignipes



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two boys, a little rain, a sleeping town, and a midnight run by the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

Mist rises from the pavement and forms soft yellow globes around the streetlamps. Dean stands in the doorway, listening to the quiet drips and splashes in the forest. The night's almost bearable now that the rain has washed away some of the heat. It's almost possible to breathe without drowning.

"I'm going for a run," he decides. He pushes away from the doorframe.

Sam stops typing and looks up from the laptop. Dean can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and after a moment Sam snaps the computer shut and stands up. "I'll go with you," he says.

~

The town is quiet, dark, asleep. Place like this, the bars close at midnight and people draw their shades but don't lock their doors.

From the motel parking lot they go left, west, toward the lake they spent the evening ridding of obnoxiously toothy carnivorous zombie ducks.

Carnivorous zombie ducks, Dean thinks. Just when you thought you've seen everything.

The two-lane blacktop slices through the woods like it knows where it's going, leaving the streetlamps behind. Dean lets Sam set the pace -- quick, steady -- and after about a quarter mile he gives up trying to avoid the puddles.

~

When the lights of the marina come into sight, Sam ups the pace. Dean catches the sly sideways glance, the challenge in the half-smile and raised eyebrow beneath that mop of damp hair.

It's still raining, and the light drizzle slicks his face and arms. It's just enough to make his cotton t-shirt uncomfortable, so he strips it off and tucks it into the back of his waistband.

Dean lets Sam pull ahead. Lets him get confident, a little cocky.

He can catch up. This just makes it more fun to leave Sammy in the dust on the home stretch.

~

The trail around the lake dips and climbs, winding through the trees. Million-dollar houses and fancy boats at private docks line the shore, and in the dark they splash through cool puddles, under dripping branches.

They're breathing heavily when they reach the halfway point -- ain't about the trail, someone used to say, can't remember who, it's about the man following it -- but neither of them slows down.

Muggy, damp, warm, that's this night. Sam's still in the lead. He's shed his shirt; it's swinging from one hand like a white flag, a banner, a ghost in the shadows.

~

Full-circle to the marina. In the yellow light Sam stops, bends over to catch his breath, hands on his knees, skin shiny with rain and sweat, hair dripping over his face.

Dean catches up, soaked shoes squelching on the pavement. "All worn out, kiddo?"

Sam straightens up and shoves his hair back from his forehead. "Bite me."

"I have a better idea," Dean says with a grin. "Race you back."

With a whoop and a skid of his squeaky soles on the pavement, he takes off, doesn't wait for a reply.

A second later, Sam's footsteps are pounding behind him.


End file.
